


the fantabulous employment of one harley quinn

by ace_verity



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DC Extended Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Gen, Humor, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23630989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace_verity/pseuds/ace_verity
Summary: The pigtail wacko, as Renee comes to think of her, shows up on the third day that Question Cafe is open for business.---Or, how Harley came to work at Montoya's cafe.
Relationships: Dinah Lance & Renee Montoya, Renee Montoya & Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 14
Kudos: 56





	the fantabulous employment of one harley quinn

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same universe as my coffeeshop AU, [(love is) a hand-me-down brew](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23187916/chapters/55506289), and takes place before the events of that fic.  
> Hope you enjoy!

The pigtail wacko, as Renee comes to think of her, shows up on the third day that Question Cafe is open for business. 

“Morning,” Renee greets her as she bounces cheerfully to the register. So she looks a little crazy, but honestly, crazy is the norm in Gotham. 

“Hiya!” Pigtail Wacko beams at her. “I’d like one breakfast sandwich and a large mocha frap to go, please. Extra whipped cream.”

Renee pauses, her finger hovering over the register screen. “Sorry, we don’t have breakfast sandwiches.”

“You don’t?” She frowns — pouts, really. “What kinda coffeeshop doesn’t have breakfast sandwiches?”

“This one.” Renee shrugs. “Sorry. We got muffins. No sandwiches, though.”

Pigtail Wacko sighs and mournfully says, “Well, what’s the point of that, then.”

And she turns and leaves, noticeably less cheerful, while Renee sputters helplessly after her. 

“So get this,” Dinah tells her a few days later. “Some girl comes in, asks for a sandwich. I tell her we don’t sell those, and she goes, ‘Well, you _should,’_ and then just fuckin’ leaves. Just like that.”

“Just like that,” Renee echoes. “She have pigtails, by chance? One pink, one blue?”

Dinah blinks. “Yeah, actually. Wait — have you seen her before?”

“Yep. Same exact thing.”

Dinah laughs and shakes her head. “Damn. This city’s filled with crazies.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Renee hopes that twice is enough for this girl to get it through her skull that Question Cafe does not sell breakfast sandwiches, so she may as well find somewhere else to go. Of course, Renee’s luck is never that good, because she shows up _again._

“Morning,” Renee says, unable to keep the wariness out of her voice, when the girl practically skips through the door.

“Good morning!” Pigtail Wacko chirps brightly. “Breakfast sandwich, please.”

Renee takes a deep breath and counts to five. “We still don’t serve those, and we don’t plan to anytime soon.”

“Well, why not?”

“For starters, we’re a cafe, not a breakfast joint. You want a sandwich, you can go to McDonald’s.” Too snarky, probably, and Renee prepares a stock fake-apology and an offer of a free drink, but the girl just pulls a face.

“You seen what they call a sandwich? Completely flavorless, if you ask me.” The girl — okay, _woman,_ she’s old enough to have graduated college — casts a considering gaze around the cafe. “Ya know, it wouldn’t hurt to update this place a bit. Revamp the menu, add some color, some mood music — it’s a known psychological fact that color and music influence consumer choices.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Renee says cautiously. “You gonna order anything?”

The woman wrinkles her nose. “Nah, don’t think so. Toodles!”

The next time Pigtail Wacko shows up, Renee decides she can’t take it anymore. 

“Breakfast sandwich, please,” the woman says with that same batshit smile that drives Renee up a wall, and that does it.

“Christ’s sake. For the millionth time, we don’t sell breakfast sandwiches.”

And then Renee says something that she will very much regret.

“If you want a breakfast sandwich, then you can make it your damn self.”

Pigtail Wacko, who is becoming Renee’s mortal enemy, lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree. “Okay!”

And before Renee can stop her, she vaults over the counter, narrowly missing Renee, and trots back into the kitchen. 

“Hey! You can’t just —”

The woman turns back, brow crinkled. “You just said I could. Plus, you got customers waitin’, doll.”

Renee gapes at her, speechless, then turns and looks at the line that’s forming at the register — the first time the cafe’s actually _had_ a line of customers waiting, and she can’t very well neglect her duties as proprietor to chase this psycho.

Ten minutes later, Renee’s running to fill orders and ring up customers, and the woman — Harley Quinn, she’d introduced herself, because of _course_ she has some weird-ass clown name — is leaned against the kitchen doorway, holding her half-eaten sandwich and observing the situation with a casually-raised eyebrow. 

“Need a hand, doll?” she asks chirpily, and Renee just growls in her direction, because the last thing Renee Montoya is going to do is admit she needs the help of this nutjob.

But then Harley starts filling orders and calling out names with the kind of peppy energy that Renee's never been able to manage, and having the extra set of hands makes it much easier to handle the rush. 

When it dies down around midmorning, Renee is working up the courage to thank Harley and offer some sort of payment. Before she can, though, Harley just grins brightly and says, "Nice workin' with ya! See ya tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?" Renee asks faintly, but Harley's already out the door with a cheery wave. 

"So you hired her," Dinah says, deadpan save for the glint of humor in her eyes. 

" _I did not,"_ Renee mutters darkly. "She just _showed up."_

"Uh-huh." Dinah smirks. 

And true to her word, Harley comes back the next day. This time, Renee doesn’t even bother protesting, just says, “If you’re gonna be in my kitchen, at least wear an apron.”

It’s mutually beneficial, she supposes; Harley Quinn gets her goddamn sandwich, and Renee gets an extra set of helping hands when Dinah’s not on shift. 

“You really could stand to redecorate,” Harley muses on the third day. “I could help, ya know. Got an eye for that type of thing.”

“Yeah, okay.” Renee’s doubtful; after all, this is coming from a woman with three-toned hair and a fashion sense characterized exclusively by sparkles and neon. “Don’t go too crazy, you hear?”

Harley claps her hands and disappears out the door, returning an hour later laden down with shopping bags. Renee doesn’t stay to watch whatever chaos Harley whips up, but when she walks into the cafe the next morning, her jaw drops.

It looks — surprisingly _good._ The menu board has been completely transformed from its previous, plain condition to something bright and eye-catching. There’s even art hanging on the walls, and not the boring minimalist kind Renee has seen in cafes all over the city. 

“Whattaya think?” Harley’s voice breaks the silence, and Renee nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Jesus, you startled me.” Renee looks around the cafe again and finds herself fighting back a smile. “I gotta say, it’s an improvement. Nice work.”

“See? I toldja I was good at this sort of thing.” Harley beams triumphantly, and Renee rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

“I never even offered her a job,” Renee tells Dinah later. “She just keeps showing up. Like some kinda stray animal. Feed ‘em once, they keep comin’ back for more.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe I should what?”

Dinah gives her a look of exasperation. “Offer her a damn job. You’ve said yourself that we need some help now that we’re actually getting customers.” She shrugs. “Plus, she’s clearly a good worker, and she seems nice enough.”

“ _Nice_ is not the first word that comes to mind,” Renee grumbles, but Dinah has a point.

So Renee leaves out a stack of hiring paperwork in Harley’s sight one day, because she’s not about to actually, formally _ask_ Harley to work at the cafe, as a matter of pride. It works, though: the papers reappear on Renee’s desk in the back office the next day, filled out in crooked penmanship. 

_Harleen Quinzel._ Somehow even weirder than _Harley Quinn._ Renee adjusts the schedule and gets Harley on payroll, and just like that, Question Cafe has its newest employee.

And though she’d never admit it out loud, Renee thinks that Harley fits in pretty damn well.


End file.
